


'Til kingdom come

by Skoll



Series: Norse god!Tony [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Slash, Science Bros, Tony the Norse god, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:59:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skoll/pseuds/Skoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Steve meets Stark, it's just after Loki—the actual Norse god—has just been stolen from a moving aircraft by a blond man with a cape. </p>
<p>(Or: How the Avengers would have looked if Tony was the Norse god of Iron.)</p>
<p>Fills in some of the gaps to my previous self-indulgent Tony-the-Norse-god story, namely what Tony and the Avengers were up to between when Loki fell from the Bifrost, and when Tony and Loki reconciled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Til kingdom come

**Author's Note:**

> Like the story I posted yesterday, this is both self-indulgent and ridiculous. Do I have an excuse for this? No, save that a few people asked to see more of Norse!Tony, and my brain immediately jumped on this idea.
> 
> So here it is.
> 
> Enjoy.

The first time Steve meets Stark, it's just after Loki—the actual Norse god—has just been stolen from a moving aircraft by a blond man with a cape. Now, Steve's usually a pretty polite guy. He holds doors for people, he offers to carry things people are struggling under, and he always tries to make a good first impression. Generally speaking, even negative situations aren't enough to make Steve impolite; he got through World War Two without being rude to anyone but Nazis, after all. 

In that moment, however, when Steve has just watched his hard-captured prisoner disappear into a storm, the first words out of his mouth when yet another strange man appears on the plane in a flurry of red and gold sparks are, “Heck, how many of you guys are there?”

The strange man blinks at Steve in surprise, one eyebrow raised. “A world's worth,” the man says, sounding amused, “but if you meant how many of us will be entering your vehicle, hopefully it will only be the three you've seen thus far.”

“Three—,” Steve starts, and then catches on. “So you're Asgardian, too, then?”

“I am,” the man says, and takes a quick, flamboyant bow. The armor he's wearing bends neatly at the movement, in a way Steve's never seen metal move before, and then straightens again as the Asgardian does. “My name is Stark.”

“I'm Steve Rogers,” Steve says, recovering his manners. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go after Loki.”

“Ah,” Stark says, almost apologetically. “I would advise against that, Steve Rogers.” He holds up his hands placatingly as he speaks, as if to show he isn't a threat.

“Why?” Steve asks, cautiously. “Are you planning to stop me?”

“No,” Stark says. “Loki must be stopped, and if you mean to do so then I am your ally.” There's a strange intensity to those words, one not entirely due to conviction, though Steve hears that too. At least, it sounds sincere enough that Steve's willing to believe it. “I mean only that Thor will likely see an interruption of his talk with his brother as a hostile gesture, and react as such. I do not know whether you would survive such a reaction.”

“Hold on,” Steve says, “Loki's that guy's brother?”

Stark nods, solemnly. “Yes. Loki is Thor's brother, and a prince of Asgard. In the name of disclosure, he is also my oldest friend.” Steve gives Stark a confused look, and Stark smiles, ruefully. “It is because we love him so well that we both wish him stopped.”

That, at least, Steve understands just fine. He can't remember how many times he had to stop Bucky from doing something dumb when they were kids. Bucky was always mad as anything over it for a couple of days after, but Steve only did it because Bucky was his best friend, and Bucky knew that. It's just strange, thinking of Loki as a brother, or a person with devoted friends. He hasn't seen much of Loki that's worth that devotion.

“So what would you advise?” Steve asks. He might as well take advice from an expert on Asgardians, if he's got it. Steve's not too proud to admit when he needs help.

“Bring this vehicle to the ground,” Stark says, immediately. “I will intercede on your part, and convince Thor to bring Loki to your Midgardian authorities.” Steve looks at him askance at that, and Stark simply says, “I dislike Loki's chances in Asgard at this moment. He must be stopped, but that does not mean I won't do everything in my power to keep him alive and well.”

“Out of curiosity,” Steve says, “why don't you just use whatever got you onto this plane to get you down there? Whatever those red and gold sparks were, I mean.”

A look of exasperation crosses Stark's face, and Steve gets the impression that this isn't a new irritation. “Thor, while he is many things, knows very little of subtlety. The storms he calls to him interfere with my particular variety of magic. Should I try to follow him by magic, I might well be successful—or, equally, I might find myself a continent away, and soaking wet besides.” Stark shrugs. “I prefer this method, strangely enough.”

“The human way it is, then,” Steve says. “Did you catch all that, Natasha?” 

“Of course,” Natasha says, from the front of the plane, something a little smug in her tone. “We've been looking for a place to put this plane down ever since this conversation started. We'll start our descent in a minute, Captain.”

Stark startles, briefly, when Natasha begins speaking, as though he was unaware she and the pilot were there. The expression's there for barely a second, though, and then Stark's got it covered up under anticipation. Steve wonders if all Asgardians try so hard to hide what they're feeling, or if that's just Loki and Stark.

“Let us go after my erstwhile friend, then,” Stark says, and Steve takes one look at his expression and automatically checks to make sure his shield's within easy reach.

…

When they reach the ground, Steve hears the unmistakeable sounds of fighting long before he actually sees the Asgardians. Stark, upon hearing the sound, immediately shakes his head. “I should not be surprised,” Stark says, and it sounds like he's talking to himself. 

The actual sight of the two Asgardians fighting, when they come into view, is pretty impressive. Thor's wielding a hammer with uncanny precision, and sometimes the strike of his hammer is accompanied by lightning; Loki is faster and more agile than his brother, and moves in darting strikes, using small, deadly looking knives that he got from who knows where. The two are fairly evenly matched, and Steve's isn't really sure about how he's going to break them up, or if he should just wait for the fight to finish.

Stark, standing next to him, clearly isn't willing to wait. “Excuse me a moment,” Stark says, and then he's moving almost faster than Steve's eyes can follow, red and gold light racing over the length of his armor as he does so. Unlike the other two Asgardians, Stark has no weapon that Steve can see; Steve knows better than to underestimate whatever he's doing to his armor, though.

In between one blow of Thor's hammer and the next, Stark somehow insinuates himself between the two Asgardians. There's a metallic clang as one of Loki's knife strikes bounces off of Stark's armor, and then another dull sound when Stark uses his armor-clad forearm to stop the downward swing of Thor's hammer, catching the handle of the hammer against his arm and stopping the blow before it hits him. For a moment, both Thor and Loki freeze, obviously surprised.

Steve sees Stark turn his head towards Loki, and though he can't see Stark's expression, he can see Loki's. Whatever Stark looks like, it makes Loki's expression tighten into something like pain. If Steve were a more dramatic man, he might call even call it agony. “Stark,” Loki says, tonelessly, “step aside.”

Stark raises the palm of one of his hands towards Loki, and Steve watches as the metal rings on Stark's fingers light up red and gold. There's a low, whirring noise in the air, and the metal all up and down Stark's arm starts to shake. “Stand down,” Stark counters. For a long moment, neither of the two Asgardians move. Then Stark says, almost too quietly for Steve to hear, “Loki. Please.”

Loki hesitates for a moment, and then lowers his knives, visibly letting the fight go out of himself. “Very well,” he says, as calmly as if that was his intention that whole time. “Am I to be taken back to Asgard, then?”

Stark shakes his head. “We stay on Midgard until this comes to its end.”

“Stark!” Thor says, in obvious protest, and Stark levels him with one of the deadliest looking glares that Steve's ever seen.

“If you love your brother, we stay,” Stark repeats, and this time Thor doesn't object. “Steve Rogers?” Stark calls out, and Steve's almost surprised to be spoken to directly. “I've something of a gift for you.”

“Always so kind,” Loki says, sneering—yet, when Steve goes to put a pair of cuffs on him, Loki holds out his arms and stays perfectly still, eyes on Stark the whole time.

…

“So you're the god of iron,” Banner says, after Stark introduces himself to the rest of them. 

Stark looks startled. “You certainly know your mythology,” he says.

Banner smiles, a little self-deprecatingly. “I've had a lot of free time,” he says, tone loaded with irony. Personally, Steve wouldn't consider time spent hiding from the rest of the world 'free time', but that's Doctor Banner's story to tell, if he wants to tell it. Steve himself doesn't know most of the details of the quiet scientist's past. “With my memory, if I read something once I never forget it.”

“A useful skill,” Stark acknowledges, “and one we share. Yes, your people called me the god of iron. My skills are, perhaps, less specific than that name would seem to imply. I am first and foremost an inventor, with some special affinity for metal.” He holds up his arms, drawing attention to the suit of armor he's wearing. “This, for instance, is of my design.” Once again, red and gold light gathers on the suit, though this time Stark doesn't use it for anything.

Banner leans in closer, looking at the metal of the suit with interest. “I don't recognize this alloy,” he says, and Stark smiles, smugly.

“No Midgardian would,” Stark says, “nor the elements it was made from.”

Banner hums under his breath and says, “You're using yourself as a conductor, aren't you? No, more than that.” He looks up at Stark and asks, sounding surprised, “Are you using your own body as a power source?”

Stark looks impressed by the question. “The reports I received of your intelligence were not exaggerated, I see.”

Steve clears his throat and says, “Excuse me, gentlemen, but can you maybe discuss this after we've worked out a way to find the cube?”

“Science playdate's over,” Natasha says, from behind Steve, and Steve turns to see her arching one neat eyebrow. Even with all his enhancements, Steve only barely heard her coming. That is one scary lady.

Banner just gives her a long look, and then says, “Come on, Stark. They allotted a lab for us to work on tracking the cube in. I can show you where it is.”

“Science awaits,” Stark says, sweetly, to Natasha, and then follows Banner from the room.

…

“I am a fool,” Stark says, looking intently at the back of Barton's head as he speaks. It's one of the first things he's said since they all collectively decided that obeying SHIELD was less important than putting a stop to Loki's plan. Steve does wish there was another way, but he's still having difficulty reconciling the Nick Fury he mostly trusted with the Fury who was willing to exploit the tesseract to build weapons. Besides, it's not as though Steve's never borrowed government planes without permission before.

“Why?” Steve asks, out of curiosity.

Stark doesn't look at him when he answers. “Loki is not acting under his own control. He, too, is under the staff's influence.” Steve hesitates. On one hand, he wants to say Stark is wrong, because he's fairly certain Stark is just trying to excuse Loki's guilt, and it isn't the sort of guilt you can excuse. On the other hand, though, he's never considered that possibility before.

Stark seems to notice Steve's uncertainty, as he says, “I should remind you, Steve Rogers, that you have known Loki for less than a month, and I have been at his side for centuries. I know his mind. Nothing he has done on your planet seems consistent with that knowledge of him. I assumed—,” Stark pauses, and then says, “He came very close to death, when he left Asgard, and even I know not where he has been since then. I assumed his actions were due to a change in him.” Stark looks down at his hands, and Steve notices that they're clenched into fists, tightly enough that the metal on his hands seems to be cutting into his skin. “Always more faith in him than in stories,” Stark says, and Steve knows Stark isn't talking to anyone but himself anymore. It sounds as though he's quoting something, though Steve doesn't know what. “I should have kept that faith, when it most mattered.”

“Stark,” Steve says, and then stops. There isn't a good way to tell him that Loki probably isn't being controlled by anything. They're about to go into battle against the Asgardian, anyway. Stark will realize for himself soon enough. “Maybe you're right,” he says, shrugging, “but it's too late to do anything about it now.”

Stark looks up at Steve and smiles, humorlessly. “I suppose we shall see.”

…

Steve is standing over the crater the Hulk left Loki in, trying to keep the Chitauri from mobbing the crowd of civilians being moved to safety behind him, and so he sees it when Loki starts waking up. “Stark,” he says over the comms, as Loki's eyes slowly flutter open, “Loki's awake.” He has to look away from the Asgardian to catch his shield, but he's not really worried. Even Loki won't be going anywhere for a while, after the beating Hulk gave him.

Stark breathes out a word that Steve can't understand, in something that definitely isn't English. It sounds relieved as anything, though. “That is...good,” Stark says, a little shakily. “I have more pressing news, however. I feel metal in the air over your city, approaching rapidly, and none of what my magic tells me is good. It is some sort of incendiary, but far more powerful than mere fire.”

Steve feels his heart sink. “It's a bomb,” he says, because he trusts that gut feeling. “An explosive powerful enough to split atoms.” He should have expected this from SHIELD, he really should have. He's not sure what he can do about it now.

“Pardon me,” Stark says, and then launches into a long string of words which Steve gathers are not very polite. By the time he's done cursing in what sounds like at least twelve different languages, Steve has taken out most of the Chitauri he was facing. “Very well,” Stark says, sounding resigned, and then there's silence for a long while. When Stark next speaks, it's to say, “I've intercepted the bomb, and our Chitauri friends have done me the kindness of giving me somewhere to put it.”

Steve knows that tone; he's heard it before, back in the war, when soldiers went out on a mission they didn't plan to come back from. “Stark,” he says, “if you're making a suicide run—”

“Perhaps I am,” Stark says, and then Steve sees the red-gold trail of magic that signifies Stark in flight streak overhead, rapidly heading towards the portal opened by the tesseract. “Then again, perhaps not. Asgardians are notoriously difficult to kill, myself most of all.”

“Stark,” Steve says again, more urgently, but too late. The bright light of Stark's magic flickers at the edge of the portal, and then Stark is through, and any light he might give off is stifled by the darkness beyond.

From behind him, Loki says, “Stark.” There's no particular emotion in the name, yet something compels Steve to turn around and look. From his crater on the ground, Loki is staring up at the portal with greener, clearer eyes than Steve's ever seen on him before. His expression is completely blank, and for a moment Steve's irrationally angry that this is the repayment that Stark gets for his devotion, after everything.

Then he notices that Loki actually seems to have stopped breathing, and reassesses.

Steve waits for what feels like an impossibly long time, waiting to see red and gold streak back into the sky. He doesn't know how long it's been since Stark's disappearance when the Chitauri all drop, suddenly, like puppets with their strings cut. “He did it,” Steve says, quietly. Even if Stark doesn't make it back, he did what he meant to. That's something, at least. Natasha, over the comms, asks to shut the portal, and Steve closes his eyes and says, “Close the portal, Natasha.”

“Wait!” Loki says, his voice harsh. Steve knows better than to trust Loki, but something in Loki's tone makes him relay the order to Natasha anyway. “Stark lives. You must not—Stark is alive.”

“You don't sound so sure of that,” Steve says, more gently than he means to. Loki's expression might be blank, but there's something in his eyes that Steve recognizes as grief. Steve doesn't have it in him to be cruel to someone grieving, not even if that person attacked New York City.

“He must be alive,” Loki says. He's still watching the portal, Steve can't help but notice. “He must.”

Steve can't hold the portal based on that. Even though Stark took out the Chitauri here, there's no telling how many might be left on the other side of that portal, and Steve has no way of knowing whether the bomb took them all out or not. Chances are, since Stark was on the other side of that portal when the bomb blew, Stark's already long gone. He can't risk civilian lives to keep the portal open, based solely on Loki's hope. “Natasha,” he starts to say.

“Look,” Loki breathes, and Steve looks.

There, in the sky, is a descending flicker of red and gold light. “Stark,” Steve says, and realizes he's smiling like crazy. When Stark said he was hard to kill, he wasn't kidding. 

Then he notices exactly how Stark's flying—erratically, more dropping towards the ground than flying towards it. “Stark doesn't look so good,” Steve says, concerned.

“He took the force of the blast,” Loki snaps, “of course he is not uninjured. He breathes, though, and so long as that is the case he will recover.” This time, Loki sounds sure. Steve watches Loki, who is looking at Stark's descent to Earth as though it's the only thing worth looking at. Only when Stark is drops below the roof of a building and out of sight does Loki close his eyes. “Stark may be an absolute fool,” he says, “but he'll live.” That last word is more air than sound, and Steve finds himself marginally more willing to believe Stark's theory about Loki being under someone else's control, just from the sheer relief on Loki's face.

It's the last thing Loki says to Steve, and when the rest of the Avengers arrive with a shaky, pale, clearly living Stark in tow, Loki lets himself be taken back to SHIELD, more docilely than Steve has ever seen him before.

…

When the feeds of Loki's cage show Stark entering the room, Natasha calls him in. “I thought you should see this,” she says, and gestures to the screen, where Stark is carrying on his one-sided conversation with Loki.

“This isn't—,” Steve objects, but Natasha shakes her head. 

“You'll want to see this, Cap,” she says. Against his better judgment, Steve waits, and watches.

He's genuinely surprised when Loki reaches up to press his hand to the glass, because there's no mistaking that gesture. That's no sign of friendship—that's a lover showing affection, plain and simple. Steve would never have guessed about that. Stark and Loki, really? 

He doesn't mean that out of ignorance; he knows that men can be together. Just because he lived in the forties doesn't mean that there weren't men who loved men back then—they just had to be a lot more quiet about it. Nowadays, things are more accepting. Heck, in New York guys can even get married—Steve lives in an apartment across from a homosexual couple, and they've never been anything but polite to him. He's neither a bigot nor an idiot. He could care less if Stark loves a man, or even if Loki loves a man.

It's thinking of Loki loving anyone at all that throws him for a loop. Steve knows Loki as someone who came to his planet wanting only to destroy. He's seen Loki angry, taunting, and uncaring of the harm he does; but he's never seen Loki love. Loki didn't even hesitate to attack his own brother, for heaven's sake. Yet there he is on screen, looking at Stark like Stark means the whole world to him, and that, more than anything, is what gives Steve pause.

“That's—,” 'something', Steve starts to say, when Loki leans in close to Stark, as though he'd be holding him if the glass wasn't in the way. Then he realizes exactly what he's looking at, and changes his mind. “That's none of our business,” he says, instead. “Turn it off.”

“You're sure?” Natasha asks, one eyebrow raised.

“I'm positive,” Steve says. “Turn it off.”

The last Steve sees of the feeds shows Loki and Tony still standing together, quietly.

…

“Good luck in Asgard,” Steve says, and claps Stark on the shoulder. 

Stark smiles, and then looks back over his shoulder to where Loki stands, bound and gagged and looking completely expressionless. For just a moment, when Stark looks at him, Loki's eyes seem brighter, like he's smiling under the gag. “My thanks, Steve Rogers. For everything.”

Steve rocks back on his heels and puts his hands in his pockets. “From where I'm standing, it seems like we should be thanking you.”

Stark's smile turns to a smug grin. “I'll not say no to thanks,” he says, in the familiar, arrogant tone that Steve's started to find a little endearing. “Good fortune to you, my friend. If you have need of my help, call my name, and I shall come if I can.”

“So you might come back to Earth one day?” Steve asks.

Stark shrugs. “Perhaps. That is, assuming we are welcome here.” The emphasis on 'we' leaves Steve with no doubt about what he means. “It seems quite an assumption, as I have no guarantee we are welcome even in Asgard.”

“I can't speak for the people of New York City,” Steve says, “but you're welcome with me, if you need a place to stay.” Maybe Steve doesn't exactly understand what's between Stark and Loki, or approve at all of Loki, but then he doesn't have to. Somehow in all of this Stark became a friend, and Steve stands by his friends. It's as simple as that.

“You may yet regret that offer,” Stark says, and Steve gets the impression that he's only half teasing, “but I thank you for it, nevertheless.” He bows to Steve, much the same as he did when they first met, and when he stands back up Steve holds out a hand to shake. Stark looks at his hand for a moment and then clasps it, his grip firm and more metal rings than skin, and then lets go.

“Stark,” Thor says, “it is time.”

“Farewell, then, Steve Rogers,” Stark says, “and to you, Natasha.” Natasha grins and nods, looking genuinely fond of Stark—Steve wonders when that friendship popped up, but somehow isn't surprised that Stark's pushy charm works even on Natasha Romanov. “Barton, I hope you are well, and I believe I would have liked to know you better.” Barton, standing next to Natasha, just inclines his head.

Stark turns, as if to walk towards Thor and Loki, and then pauses. “And Banner,” he calls back, over his shoulder, and Banner straightens up, seeming surprised to be addressed. “I will make a way to speak with you of your discoveries, if there is not one already. This is not the last you'll hear of me.”

“Looking forward to it,” Banner says, and his lips raise into a tiny smile.

Stark claps his hands together. “Then all I must do on Midgard is done.” He walks to Loki's side, and together they grip one side of the container holding the tesseract, as Thor holds the other. “Asgard awaits,” Stark says, and leans into Loki's side as Thor turns the handle.

In a flash of blue light, they disappear.

**Author's Note:**

> I am now (probably) done writing in this verse. It did make for a nice distraction, but my primary focus is still my other Frostiron fic.
> 
> The title to this fic, and to the previous one in this series, were taken from Coldplay's song 'Til Kingdom Come. Largely because it was what popped up on my iTunes shuffle while I tried to upload the first story yesterday, but also because it is a lovely song.
> 
> If you read this far, I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
